


Campsites (And I'll Hold You in the Tent)

by RodimusPrime036



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Apollo and Cosmos, Camping in the rain, Cause Cosmos has So Many of them, Fellas is it gay to call ur bf petnames, Homiesexuals..., M/M, Two bros in a tent, what they gonna do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29896812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodimusPrime036/pseuds/RodimusPrime036
Summary: These fellas GAY! Good for them! Good for them.(Cosmos and Apollo!)
Relationships: Guardian/Guardian (Destiny)
Kudos: 1





	Campsites (And I'll Hold You in the Tent)

"It'll storm here soon." 

Cosmos' voice is pleased; he scampers a few feet ahead of Apollo, his cloak a star-spattered shadow that guides the larger exo through the trees. They'd been hiking for hours now, near silent except when Cosmos would point out something he'd seen, or when Apollo would break to sketch in his smaller book. (Sights to paint at home, saved in pencil until he would be able to bring them to life on canvas.) He doesn't know _how_ Cosmos can even tell, given the sunlight dappling the ground- (Cosmos is so pretty out here, dancing in the shadows, a cloud of stardust weaving among the trees)- but he speeds up to keep pace and looks curiously to the small hunter.

"Is it? Looks warm enough." 

"Always does before a storm- can't ya feel the spark? Electricity in the air, 'n it smells like rain." 

Cosmos falls back a pace, bumping his shoulder into his arm and tilting his head in an invisible smile. (He links their pinkies together and sways their arms, and Apollo feels a warmth bloom in his chest like a flower. Cosmos is just as warm against his side.) 

They walk for another twenty minutes, finally stumbling into a clearing where Cosmos stops. He rests his hands on his hips, struts forward a few steps and hums thoughtfully. Apollo watches a moment before taking in the space before them- there's a pit with charcoal off to the side, a small pile of wood stacked under a tree nearby. Most large rocks have been moved away, aside from the circle around the pit- someone, (likely Cosmos,) had stayed here before. 

"Honey pie," speaking of; the smaller exo has turned to him, practically chirping as he hefts his backpack off his shoulders and unzips the top. "Could you be a peach 'n set this tarp up o'er the wood? Don't want it gettin' too wet with the storm." He holds a thick plastic tarp towards the taller hunter, before scrambling over to tug on his own pack. "'N I'll take this." Apollo shrugs the bag off his shoulders before taking the tarp, nodding agreeably. 

"Have you camped here before, love?" He sees Cosmos' nod before he turns, stretching the tarp out over the logs and scrounging through the underbrush to find a few stones large enough to hold down the plastic. "Lovely view out here- still no sign of rain though, we could keep moving, couldn't we?" He startles when he turns back around; Cosmos has managed to set up the tent they brought along already, and is sitting on his knees inside sorting through their belongings. There's a sleeping bag tucked into the far wall, a small lantern nearby, a pillow on the floor for their ghosts and the two pillows they brought set at the top of the bag. 

"Forgot the other one," he mumbles, almost looking upset by the way his brow furrows, and Apollo ducks into the tent. 

"It's alright," he hooks an arm around his shoulders, tugging the little exo to his side and resting his cheek atop his head. "I think there's some worse things we could have forgotten." Cosmos sighs, nods softly, leans into his frame before suddenly speaking.

"Means I get t' be closer to you, huh?" He twists, nearly in Apollo's lap as he leans close and slants his eyes in his grin. "Gotta share heat, don't we?" Apollo feels the heat in his face, the way the glow catches on Cosmos' own cheeks, the gentle hum of his vents, and his smaller partner bumps their foreheads together with a huff of laughter. 

There is a sudden crack, a flash of brilliant light that illuminates the tent, and a sudden sheet of water slams into the roof. Apollo startles, jerking to attention, and Cosmos gives a wordless cheer as he rushes for the zipper. The dirt jumps on each pellet of water, thundering against the ground and the tent, the sun hidden by a wave of swirling clouds that lit and sparked with lightning. (Cosmos seems thrilled, hesitating on the zipper as he stuck his face out into the rain and let the rain barrel over his plating. When he finally settles in and zips the tent closed, there's a layer of water dripping off his face, and a grin over his cheeks. He's beautiful.) 

"Told ya there'd be rain!" He sounds pleased, falling back and scooting closer, fumbling to light the lamp to cast a gentle glow inside their space. The wind howls furiously outside, and Cosmos' grin widens. 

"Got bad fast," Apollo muses, and the little hunter nodded happily.

"Always does 'round here. Best place to burn out." (Apollo doesn't ask what _'burn out'_ means. He's fairly certain that his little solar partner used the term literally.) 

  
  


They sit together for a long time. Cosmos had brought cards, and they played an odd mixture of Go Fish and B.S until Apollo started drawing again- then Cosmos took to dramatically posing around the tent. At least, until he dropped the lamp and accidentally broke it. Sketching ended when they'd scrambled to pick up the glass through their laughter, while Nebula and Juno lit up their space. The rain still roars against their little hideaway, and exhaustion sets in like a stone. He hadn't realized how tired he was, not when the air had been full of laughter, but they'd been busy all day- and the rain was startlingly soothing, pattering against their tent, and Cosmos yawns, raises his arms up over his head and folds backwards until his shoulders hit the ground as his back arches in a rather uncomfortable looking stretch. (He _seems_ comfortable, humming before falling flat against the floor and sighing contentedly.)

"Bedtime?" Apollo prompts gently, and Cosmos nods immediately. 

  
  


Getting comfy takes a minute. Apollo opens the sleeping bag as Cosmos squirms out of his armor and sets his gun beside the pillows, and he follows suit once the little hunter starts his inspection of their tent. The golden exo settled quickly; flat on his back, propped on the pillows, watching as Cosmos prowled the edges, set some old glass bottles before the entrance and stared thoughtfully at the door. _(Defenses_ , Apollo noted. If anyone tried to get in, there'd be noise. For a moment, he's almost sad to see the paranoia, to see how previous experiences have permanently changed the hunter. Then he remembers that Cosmos loved field work.)

The space-colored Guardian scooted closer again, staring thoughtfully down at him a moment and tilting his head. He seems curious- no, _attentive,_ a lazy grin slanting his plating as he abruptly dropped over his frame. He threw one leg over Apollo's waist, supporting himself with a hand on his chest as he fumbled back to half-zip the sleeping bag before beaming down at him. (He brightens enough that he can see the glow of his cheeks dancing off Cosmos' armor, the whir of his vents audible even over the rain.) 

_"Ooh,_ honey bun," Cosmos is _cooing,_ careful as he tugs at his shirt until he lifts a bit to help him pry it over his head, his eyes half-lidded as he peered down at him. "Almost forgot how _pretty_ you are." He must sound like a sparrow with how loud he's humming, but Cosmos seems busy fumbling with his own shirt before sprawling over his chest and nosing up under his chin. He's _purring,_ a deep, rolling rumble, his hands warm as they flit over his plating before zipping the bag the rest of the way and sighing contentedly. "My golden boy." 

He's so _soft,_ soft as he thumbs over his sides, soft as he vents warmly against his jaw and uses practiced fingers to seek out the nicks in his armor. For a moment, Apollo is tense, a frightening wave of anxiety coiling in his belly. Then Cosmos' fingers pet delicate stripes over a few scuffs, he purrs louder and nuzzles into his shoulder, and Apollo breathes a sigh before curling his hands against his hips and tapping gently. (It is a familiar rhythm, though he can never recall its origin. It is soothing, and doesn't seem to bother Cosmos any.) 

The small exo moves slowly; runs his hands up his sides, finding each small scratch and gently running his fingers against the marks, rests his fists on his chest and hums happily before settling with his palms pressed to his cheeks, his thumbs dragging in lazy motions over his faceplates. He's gentle, his palms heated, and the steady downpour of rain only makes Apollo more tired by the moment.

"Y'er just," Cosmos sighs heavily, (he sounds so sleepy.) "So _beautiful._ My pretty honeybee. Ain't no one else I'd wanna be in a tent with." (Apollo decides that must be quite a compliment, coming from Cosmos.) He sits up suddenly, using his chest as support, his eyes glowing moons in the darkness, speaking hushed and pleased. "Can I 'ave a kiss?" He sounds so terribly eager, leaned close, and Apollo muffles a laugh before closing the distance between them. (He can get used to camping, if it means he has a rumbling partner to keep the sleeping bag warm.) 

  
  


Apollo wakes up alone, which is _odd,_ all things considered. Well, not _alone,_ because Juno is hovering attentively beside him. He yawns, stretches his arms up and grumbles as his back pops and his plating rattles- then he falls limp, sighing softly and rubbing sleep out of his eyes. 

"Cosmos-9 is outside," Juno informs. "He's making breakfast- you'd better eat something _healthy_ this time." Apollo huffed a laugh, sitting up and rolling his shoulders. (There's a fire crackling outside, a breeze that rustles the trees, golden light shining through the thin tent- it seemed the storm had passed.) 

He unzips the sleeping bag, yawning again as he tugged his shirt back over his head, sleepily slipping his knife back into its holster and kicking out of the cover. Hunting down his boots, he listened to Cosmos' humming, the crackle of burning wood, the scent of smoke and wet dirt, the sound of something popping- this feels _good,_ even as sleep still clouds his mind. Apollo stretched one last time, hooking his cloak around his shoulders before dragging himself out of the tent and stumbling into the sunlight. 

The light is bright, and he squinted a moment as he took in the area. The dirt was damp, the leaves rustling in the breeze, the dappled shadows dancing and casting beams of light through their clearing. 

Cosmos is staring. 

He's sitting beside the fire, holding a pan with something sizzling inside, and he's _staring._ The purple of his cheeks is dim and gentle, his eyes bright and pleased, a slant to his cheeks that marks a warm smile-

"What're you looking at?" Apollo questions, tilting his head and blinking. 

"Enjoyin' the view," Cosmos croons sweetly, rolling the pan in his hands and tossing whatever was inside in a neat flip. "G'mornin', darlin'. Looking as beautiful as always." He winks, turning back to his cooking and humming to himself as Apollo sputtered. (He can feel the blush already, the way his fans hum like a washing machine, heat rising up his cheeks as he stumbled over his words.)

"That's, _agh,_ you're-"

"Smooth? Suave? An absolute charm? Oh, baby, you flatter me." 

"I was going to say 'cheesy,' but those work too." (Despite his words, he's grinning, and Cosmos seems pleased with his embarrassment.) He settles comfortably beside the little exo, atop the tarp laid out on the dirt. The fire is warm, flames twisting and swaying with heat, and Cosmos pulls the pan closer. He uses his fingers to grab at the- _hashbrown,_ Apollo realizes- and hisses at the heat, dropping it quickly on the plate and blowing at his fingers. (It's _cute,_ the golden hunter decided, saving the moment to memory to doodle later.) 

"Breakfast," Cosmos announces, turns his head to beam up at Apollo. "Hashbrowns, cooked up in some grease from the sausage. Can't believe I forgot th' pancake batter- did ya know that if you keep it in a clean condiment container, makes it easy to carry with you?" Apollo snorts on a laugh at that, shaking his head in fond amusement as Cosmos twisted to grab at the plate beside him. Breakfast smells good- steam curling off the two paper plates, one of which is thrust into his lap as Cosmos prodded at the fire with a stick before grinning back at him. 

"Usually don't pack for breakfast, but figured since it's y'er first official _leisure_ trip out with me, might as well make it a good one." 

"Cosmos," he leans down to nuzzle the top of his head, watching as the little hunter's finials flicked back while he tilted his head up to return to affection. "Any trip with you is a good one. But you had better be having breakfast even when I'm _not_ with you." Cosmos laughs then, shoulders shaking, and he shoves hand a sausage into his mouth before replying. 

"Oh, sugar, I promise I do! Sometimes. When I find things that seem edible." 

"He's killed himself before by eating something that gunked up his internals." Nebula deadpans, and Cosmos made a face. 

"It was _one time!_ Besides, I learned not to eat _that_ again!" 

Apollo might have had something to say about that, if not getting caught in the playful glint in Cosmos' eyes, the way his faceplates shift into his grin, the way golden sunlight dances off his cheeks and how his finials flick and shift in his mock argument with the Ghost. The air smells of rain, of rain and smoke and breakfast, (he realizes this is also what _Cosmos_ smells like,) the wind rustling through the leaves, _life_ bustling through the forest-

He can get used to camping, as long as he has Cosmos there to keep him company. (He doesn't tell him that he spotted the other sleeping bag tucked into the corner of the tent.) 


End file.
